Several weeks ago, an acquaintance called me asking for help. She was in danger of being kicked out of graduate school due to her low GPA. However, she could appeal the decision and asked me to write the letter, as I had helped her edit her papers when she was an undergraduate and she was much too anxious and scared to do it herself. She tried, but either deleted or fretted over every word and sentence or it sounded too emotional. So, I asked about her situation and other information. I knock out the letter in less than 30 minutes... and it worked (I don't know if that say more about my writing ability or the people who read the letter). Her appeal was approved and she gets to continue with grad school.

Now, I just saved her academic career, her future career, future job prospects, etc. Basically, this would be considered a major thing. People would be proud and happy to have helped someone. Me? I didn't feel a damn thing. I get more emotion from someone telling me there was an extra can of Pepsi in the refrigerator. I'm not trying to pass off a "oh, it was simple matter" or sound arrogant, but ...takes a sip of tea...this Irish Breakfast is doing more me.